"Will you save me?" the girl asked. "Will you take me home?"

"A-ha-ha. Bimeby. Come."

A feeling of security now swept upon Jean, so leaving the lodge she
followed the Indian, who at once led her away from the river into the
forest. It was difficult to see her guide, and so hard was the walking
that she often stumbled, and several times fell. At length the Indian
took her by the arm.

"Sam help white woman, eh?" he queried.

"Thank you," Jean panted. "You are very good."

With the native's assistance, she was thus enabled to make much better
progress. How strong he was! He kept her from falling, and lifted her
bodily at times over a root or a fallen log. And he was gentle, too,
stopping to rest as they climbed some hill, and speaking words of
encouragement.

"White woman no strong," he said. "White woman all sam' Injun bimeby."

To Jean it seemed as if their journey through the forest would never
end. She was so tired, and her feet very sore. Gradually her strength
and courage weakened, and her steps lagged. At length she stopped, and
her body trembled. She could go no farther. She just wanted to lie
down and rest. Then she tottered, and would have fallen had not the
Indian caught her in his powerful arms.

"White woman all sam' babby," he said. "Injun tote white woman, eh?"